POCKET MAKERS. 109 



they flew away to any distance, on their return 

 they almost always came with their little call of 

 schrit, schrit. 



This nest was so low that I used to throw my- 

 self on the sand beneath the tree to watch it, tak- 

 ing many a sunbath there, with hat drawn down 

 till I could just see the nest in the pendent 

 branches, and watch the changing mosaics made 

 by the sky through the moving leaves. When 

 resting on the sand the thought of rattlesnakes 

 came to me, for the brush on either side was a 

 shelter for them, and they might easily have 

 crept up beside me without my hearing them. 



The second bush-tit's nest was shorter than the 

 first one. Perhaps the builders thought the 

 length had something to do with the fall of the 

 first ; or perhaps they did n't feel like collecting 

 three hundred more feathers, with oak blossoms 

 and moss to match. They first put the frame of 

 the front door below the supporting cross twig, 

 and then, as if they thought it needed more sup- 

 port, changed it and put the door above the twig, 

 so that the roof could not possibly close the hole, 

 even if it did fall in. The doorway was also 

 made much larger than that of the first nest. 



After making away with the old nest, my con- 

 science smote me. Perhaps the little pocket 

 makers were not through with it, even if it was 

 on the ground ; so I brought a piece of it back 

 and tied it with a grass stem to a twig below the 



